


Sharpe and the Secretary

by gabrielsingskaraoke



Category: Crimson Peak (2015), Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Warnings for Canon Compliant Death, based on art
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielsingskaraoke/pseuds/gabrielsingskaraoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin is having another quiet day at the office. He really should be used to ghosts showing up at this point.</p><p>Or: The story inspired by the art credit to Manta floating around at http://tinyurl.com/ghostpeak</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Sighting

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ghostbusters x Crimson Peak](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/176068) by Manta. 



> My friends tagged me in this art: http://tinyurl.com/ghostpeak   
> credited to Manta, posted by Megan at Tom Hiddleston FAN-demonium on Facebook  
> & it just kind of demanded a story. 
> 
> Everything spiraled out of control from there and I can't promise that there won't be more chapters in the future. (Guys, they're just too cute. look at them. what even is that? How is it allowed? please send help)

Kevin would never have a job as good as this. 

He knew that. There was nothing wrong with a job that let him read the Yellow Wallpaper and pretend to work on the computer. Nothing wrong with it. Nope. 

Minor problem. This was the fifth time he had read it this week. He’d also read Frankenstein three times, The Turn of the Screw twice, and updated the files on every identified sprit in the tri-state area.

It was a quiet day, quiet week, potentially quiet lifetime. Which was good. Kevin could be near the excitement, but with enough space to breath without fear. It was exactly what he’d been looking for in a job. Today, though, had been worse than most. 

The worst part about quiet days was when they became too quiet. You would know it when it happened.

Or, maybe Kevin knew. It was a side effect of working with the Ghostbusters. The ladies had all the real talent, sure, but you pick up a few things here and there. Just ask some advice from a legal secretary. You pick things up. 

Not to say that Ghostbusting is comparable to Law. Unless you count all the times they get arrested.

The second thing you learn is where to find cheap, good lawyers. The first thing you learn to recognize is when the sound of silence isn’t silence. 

“Hello, Welcome to Ghostbuster’s Headquarters.” Kevin began his spiel before even looking up. It was probably the police. Or maybe a ghost. No one else ever really bothered to come around anymore. “How may I help – Oh.“

He’s beautiful. He was beautiful.

Kevin took off his glasses for a moment. Two deep breaths against the glass and a swipe of his shirt tails. No, still beautiful.

“I can help with that.” Kevin muttered, looking away from the ghost’s sad eyes. He was digging through the bottom drawer of his desk. He knew they were in here somewhere.  
“I apologize,” he said, looking back up at the ghost. Kevin shook the band-aids box, too pink and bright for any professional office. “They’re Patty’s. She insisted. Had me overnight them once, just because she’d got a cut on her finger and we were low.”

The man – the ghost - was tall and gentle. He had the look of someone who had carried a weight on his shoulders for too many years – decades, at least, if the clothes were any indication. He didn’t move away as Kevin leaned over the desk with the band-aid, praying that it wouldn’t just pass through his face. It was one thing to touch another guys face, it was quite another to stick your hand right into it.

“She says that it’s something about sensitive skin. They use a more gentle adhesive on these, what with them being for kids and all. Which I would buy, except –“ Kevin paused, smiling at the ghost to lower the tension. “Well, she’s very specific about the Hello Kitty part.”

Kevin smoothed Hello Kitty’s patterned face over the ghost’s cheek. “There. As charming as ever.” 

The ghost quirked his lips. It was a smile, or almost a smile. The kind of smile that gets secretaries thinking crazy things. 

Like maybe, this ghost didn’t have to be busted. Maybe this was a ghost they could keep.


	2. The File

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life got in the way, but more chapters are coming. I can't stop shipping this two.  
> Sorry for the long wait!

There’s no file on him.

There’s a file on every other goddamn ghost in this town, but there’s no file on the ghost calling himself Thomas. Kevin knows because he checked everywhere in the office. He checked the new records and the records from 30 years ago. He checked them twice.

Okay, he checked them all three times.

He’d managed to offend Thomas quite thoroughly when he’d asked if he’d been the resident ghost of the last team of Ghostbusters. Kevin was relieved when the answer was no. Holtzmann was amused that he’d asked if the “cute British dude was a slime-oozing maniac.” Her words, not his.

She’d then decided that they needed to figure out where Slimer had gotten to, because they needed a dog. No one had managed to convince her that Slimer was not, in fact, a dog.

He was starting to doubt his secretary powers.

-

Thomas was hovering next the front desk. Just a few feet above the ground, cross-legged, and leaning over the desk to read the green-stained file on Slimer. He looked confused.

Everyone looked confused when they read that file.

No one could figure out where Slimer had gotten to, and Thomas had announced that he was going to solve the mystery. Or, everyone assumed that’s what he was doing. He’d actually just swiped the file from the desk and refused to let anyone else look at it.

Kevin had accidentally put it away one day, and returned to find all the cabinets thrown open and tossed onto their sides. Thomas had been very apologetic. He hadn’t really mastered the ability to judge his strength when interacting with the world. There was a collection of chipped tea cups to prove his attempts sitting on the kitchen shelf. No one could bring themselves to throw them out, or turn down a half filled broken cup of fresh tea. He was just trying so hard.  
  
Also, Abby had threatened to fire anyone who interfered with the only ghost kind enough to let them study him.

And so the day continued. Thomas hovered and read, while Kevin answered phones and occasionally stared too long at the ghost fellow. 

-

 There was a file. Thomas knew this.

Thomas also knew that Kevin didn’t know this.

It wasn’t that he had wanted to lie or mislead. There were just some things that were harder to explain. Thomas just wasn’t ready to go through his past again. He knew that the time would come someday.

He’d spent the years helping other ghosts come to terms and find their ways to –

To the something more. He helped them go to the other side of the door that you don’t come back from. He’d hoped that was a good thing; that he was balancing out the karma that he’d collected from – from his mistakes. Or, not mistakes. He shouldn’t write them off. He knew the thought behind what he was doing. He’d made choices.

He was not choosing not to explain those choices.

Kevin was kind and did not ask why Thomas had taken to hovering over files. Kevin was also very easily distracted and neglected to notice the pattern in the files.

These were the ghosts held in the containers downstairs. They were wicked and cruel. They were the reason that the Ghostbusters had to exist. Spirits born from people who had made choices as dark as those made by Thomas.

That was a lie.

Most of them did not touch the pain caused by Thomas and his sister.

His sister.

Thomas closed the file that he’d been reading; trying to get lost in the very confusing phone call that Kevin was absorbed in. He seemed to be switching between English and Spanish. New York was an interesting place, for the living and the dead.

There was a file. There was a right thing to do. Thomas knew this and ignored it, but he wondered how much closer that brought him to being another labelled canister.  

 


End file.
